


Rarely Pure and Never Simple

by pretentiouskneecap



Category: RWBY
Genre: Day 1: Confessions, Fair Game Weekend (RWBY), Fluff, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Volume 7 (RWBY), Truth Spells (kinda), fairgameweekend2020, in the tags be spoilers, risk of secondhand embarrassment, the rwby equivalent anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretentiouskneecap/pseuds/pretentiouskneecap
Summary: Clover and Qrow have been dancing around their feelings ever since Atlas. After the end of a battle, they find they're about to get a little outside help with that.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	Rarely Pure and Never Simple

**Author's Note:**

> "The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple." - Oscar Wilde
> 
> Written for Fair Game Weekend 2020 Day 1: Confessions. Enjoy!

Clover sighed when they finally reached their room, Qrow shutting the door behind them. He rolled his shoulders and checked his aura, feeling the places where it sparked along his skin, healing all the bruises and aches of the day. The return trip had been tense— nothing had gone terribly wrong, but there were enough close calls to keep the kids subdued and pensive instead of their usual energetic selves. 

“They’ll be alright,” he said to Qrow, who was still facing the closed door. “They just need some time to process, but they’ll bounce back soon enough.” 

Qrow sighed and nodded, turning back to face him. 

“How about you? You feeling alright?” Qrow asked with a concerned look as he laid Harbinger against the wall by the bed. “You took a pretty hard hit there.”

Clover took a deep, careful breath and winced as he felt a sharp pain in his side on the inhalation. He eased himself down to sit on the edge of the bed that occupied the middle of the room. 

“Not bad, although I think a few of my ribs are bruised. It’ll probably take a couple days to fully heal, but I’ll be able to fight in the meantime. Everything else is smaller scrapes,” Clover said, and then blinked. He hadn’t meant to go into that much detail. He must have been more tired than he thought. “How about you?”

“No major complaints,” Qrow answered, which could be Qrow-speak for anything from minor bruises to a broken bone. He didn’t seem to be in any pain though, so Clover let it go without protest. 

Qrow came forward to kneel in front of Clover. His hand reached for Clover’s side and Clover nodded in answer to his silent request for permission. He hissed between his teeth as Qrow’s fingers pressed gently against his sore points. 

“You’re right, feels like bruising, but nothing’s broken,” Qrow proclaimed, moving away. “You know, I’ve been thinking. The kids are a lot stronger now than they were, but they still have a long way to go before they’re at our level. It might help if we split up and observed them more closely next time so we can target weak spots in their training.”

“That’s a good idea. They’re definitely at the point where they could use more hands-on correction,” Clover said, which was true, but then he couldn’t stop himself from adding, “I can’t say I’m happy about it though. I’ll miss fighting next to you.” 

He hadn’t quite meant to say that either, but Qrow looked pleased by the admission even as he snorted. “We should only need to do it once or twice to get a good idea of where to focus their training. I’m sure you’ll like working with the kids just fine.”

“They’re an entertaining bunch, that’s for sure.”

“You can say that again. What, you worried you can’t handle the combined energy of four teenagers revved up on adrenaline?” Qrow asked, turning to give him a lazy grin. 

“There’s that, and also all the missed opportunities. I particularly enjoyed the way you caught me when we fought that Griffon the other day,” Clover answered, and felt blood rush to his cheeks, the words coming faster than he could catch them. An odd sense of relief swept over him, batting down the mortification and confusion clouding his thoughts. What was wrong with him? Back at the beginning of their journey, Clover had decided he wasn’t going to push Qrow. Especially while his partner was still working on his newfound sobriety, not to mention the ongoing war. He was usually much more controlled than this. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

Qrow gave him an odd look, pink rising high on his cheeks to match. “You _sure_ you’re feeling alright there?”

“I’m— no. I think something’s wrong with me,” he said. He’d meant to allay Qrow’s concern, but his tongue seemed to have a mind of its own.

Qrow was back at his side in an instant. Clover forced himself to ignore the warm hand that landed on his elbow, calloused fingers scratching pleasantly over his skin, and focused his attention inward. The feeling was— off, somehow, but there was something familiar in it too. 

During the battle, the woman’s aura had flared right when she’d grabbed him. That had been just before she’d caught him in the chest, and he might’ve been in a tricky spot if Qrow hadn’t knocked her out with a well-timed blow from the side while she was distracted. He replayed the memory in his mind, turning it over. The way her hand had lit up with aura was sticking out to him, but why?

She’d been yelling at him at the time. It wasn’t something he’d bothered processing in the moment, given that Qrow had already taken care of the problem, but now he wished he’d been paying more attention. He thought back on it, trying to remember what she’d said. At some point she’d called them liars, he recalled that much. And there was something else in there about ‘covering up secrets’

The thought clicked. He knew where he’d seen that before, where he’d had this feeling before— Robyn. 

Clover’s body went cold with realization. “I think that woman must’ve had a truth semblance.”

He glanced up at Qrow, barely catching the shock on his face before the expression hardened, keen mind already at work. “That would explain why she kept trying to get a hold of us with her hands instead of using her weapon,” Qrow said slowly. “I guess she succeeded, but not fast enough for it to do her any good.”

“Thanks again for the save.” Clover didn’t want to think of the idea of all the knowledge he held falling being heard by the wrong ears. The fragmented pieces of information that escaped the fall of Atlas were wreaking plenty of havoc as it was. 

Qrow ignored the comment, his voice sharper now. “It’s not hurting you, is it?”

“Nothing like that,” Clover said with a shake of his head. He didn’t know how to explain the feeling, precisely. Qrow had never been under the effects of Robyn’s semblance, so he didn’t have a comparison to work from. “I’m not thrilled about the fact that I can’t control what I say, but after I’m done talking it feels pretty good actually.” 

“Well, at least that’s something,” Qrow sighed. “So. What do you want to do about it?”

“Find a way to get rid of it, although I doubt there’s a way to do that beyond waiting it out.”

“Do you want to say something to the kids?”

That was a good point. He'd rather not have any more variables in this situation than there already were. “We should probably let them know. I don’t even want to know what things they would think of to ask me.”

“That’s true,” Qrow said with a laugh. “Although I’d love to know what kind of material you have that’s blackmail-worthy. You holding back on me, shamrock?”

“Yes. I know plenty of gossip on Atlas’s top families from overhearing conversations at the right time, and there are numerous stories you haven't heard about my past relationships that ended in a variety of unfortunate ways.” Clover winced at his rambling. “I think questions are dangerous.”

Qrow patted his shoulder, managing to look curious and apologetic as he got up from the bed and walked toward the door. “Avoid direct questions, copy that. I’ll go explain the situation to the kids and field them for you.”

“Thank you,” Clover said, and meant to stop there. “You’re a good person, Qrow. I trust you." Relief suffused his body with the statement, lifting weight off his shoulders he hadn’t even realized was there. The truth felt _good_ and he lost himself in it for just a moment before the apprehension settled back in its place. Clover considered himself a pretty open person, generally speaking, but this… well. He would be happy to tell Qrow he trusted him any day, but there were other things he wasn’t prepared to tell his partner quite yet.

There was no use dwelling on it, considering there was nothing he could do about it either way. All he could do was deal with the situation at hand and try to make the most of it.

Qrow left the room without comment, flushing. Clover liked seeing the color on him— Qrow had always been handsome, but in Atlas it was almost as if he’d been forcing himself into hiding. He had slinked around the halls, especially in the first few days after the group arrived, shoulders hunched and hands always tucked away, a habit Clover had since realized was to stop himself from reaching for his flask. Their first mission together was the first time Clover saw Qrow in his element, charging forward confidently to handle Grimm and wielding Harbinger with skill most expert huntsmen would barely dream of. Now he looked much healthier; a few months of sobriety and three Atlesian meals a day had performed wonders for him. He didn’t look like he would waste away if no one was looking. 

Clover was glad to see things changing for the better, even out here in the middle of nowhere on the road to Vacuo. 

A few minutes later, Qrow came back in. “They said they’ll steer clear for now, until I tell them otherwise,” he said. “They wanted me to tell you they ‘hope you feel better and don’t say anything too embarrassing—” he put air quotes around the words, “—unless it’s funny in which case they want the full story later.’” He shook his head with a fond, exasperated smile. “I think Ruby’s already hunting down some flour for a batch of cookies as we speak. Ren and Nora both went into the kitchen with her, so jury’s out on how they’ll turn out.”

“They’re good kids,” Clover said when Qrow shut the door, amused and flattered by the kids’ concern. He’d have to think of a good but not overly-incriminating story from his academy days to tell them later. The comfort that filled him at telling the truth was dwarfed by one look at Qrow, who looked inordinately pleased with the compliment. Clover couldn’t help but smile at the sight and the idea that came attached to it. 

“They are,” Qrow agreed. He’d walked further into the room, leaning against the desk and giving Clover a sharp once-over. He paused, jaw working as he figured out how to phrase his next words. “I hope you’re still feeling alright.” 

Clover appreciated the lack of a question, the absence of the compulsion to answer rising up in him, obvious now that he knew how it felt. He took a seat on the bed, resting back against the wall. “I am. I’m actually thinking there might be an upside to this whole thing.”

“Oh?” Qrow asked with a raised eyebrow, only to backtrack as he realized what he’d said. “Wait, shit—”

“I was thinking that if I compliment you now you’d have to believe me, since there’s no way I could be lying,” Clover answered. He waved a hand at Qrow’s guilty expression. He hadn’t intended to say it quite so bluntly, but there was no harm in it either. 

Qrow had come a long way from their time in Atlas when he’d been determined to downplay every positive statement directed his way, but Clover was far from finished with his campaign to make Qrow feel good about himself. This was a rare opportunity to get ahead of the game. It was a risky strategy, given that he didn’t have a full understanding of how far the effects of the truth-telling might compel him to go, but it was also the first upside he’d seen in this whole mess, and in the end Clover was a risk-taker at heart anyway, when it came to himself. He couldn’t resist giving it a try. 

Qrow shifted uncomfortably. “You really don’t need to do that.” 

“I disagree,” Clover said with a grin. He decided to start small. He would try and stick to simple phrases for now, see how much he could control. “Harbinger is an incredible weapon. The craftsmanship is some of the best I’ve ever seen.” 

“Well, I won’t argue with that.” Qrow looked almost relieved.

“You’re a great role model for these kids,” he tried next, aiming for something a little more personal. Qrow crossed his arms, a frown pulling at his mouth as he looked away. "The way you've committed to your sobriety is very admirable. There aren't many people who try so hard to work on themselves."

“I wouldn’t say ‘role model,’” Qrow muttered.

“I would. Those kids have picked up a lot from you, and they still look to you for guidance." He considered his next move. "You’re very handsome,” he said and grinned when Qrow snorted. “I’m pretty sure that huntress we met last week spent that whole mission checking you out. She almost got side-swiped by a Grimm being so distracted.”

Clover felt a thrill run up his spine when Qrow relaxed his stance and laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“If you start deflecting I’ll go even longer.”

“Bold threats from the man who has to tell the truth. I could bring Nora in here.” Qrow stood up straighter, as if ready to walk out the door. Clover didn’t buy it for a second. 

“You could, but you won’t,” Clover said with an easy shrug. 

“You see, this is why I haven’t had a partner in years,” Qrow said. He pointed a finger in Clover’s direction. “Spend too long with someone and they start getting comfortable.”

“I like being comfortable with you. You’re the best partner I’ve ever had,” Clover said, and knew the second he finished that he’d pushed his limits too far. He watched Qrow’s jaw snap shut as he tried to find a response, but the truth had grabbed hold of Clover and it wasn’t finished with him yet. A torrent of words sprang to his tongue and forced their way out of his mouth, and Clover’s heart pounded against his chest as he realized he was helpless to stop them. “I’ve never fought alongside anyone the way I fight next to you. I was good before but you’ve made me better than I’ve ever been. I know it’s too soon for you to feel the same, but I’ve never felt about anyone—” 

Qrow’s hand was suddenly over his mouth, firm against his lips while Qrow’s body pressed his into the wall. Clover kept speaking, the words muffled and unintelligible as they were spoken against Qrow’s skin. Red eyes looked at him with concern, and he left his hand in place for a few moments after Clover was finally able to relax, until Clover recovered enough to signal him that it was safe to move. 

Qrow shifted backwards, giving him space, and Clover leaned forward to put his head in his hands. The relief that usually chased his confessions had tipped over from comforting into overwhelming this time. He felt like he’d been wrung dry, as exhausted as if he’d faced an entire herd of Megoliaths by himself. 

“Thanks,” he said, quiet, and was pathetically grateful that nothing else followed it. “Sorry about that.”

Qrow gave his arm a comforting squeeze. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” The silence in the pause was oppressive. “Come on lucky charm, where’s all that confidence? Or is there something on my face that makes you not want to look at me.”

“I like looking at you, but I’m still trying to overcome the embarrassment enough to,” Clover blurted out through his hands, and sighed. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it," Clover said, finally collected enough to look up.

Qrow’s cheeks were dusted with pink and his hands picked at loose threads in the blanket before he took a steadying breath and spoke again, tipping his head up to hold Clover’s gaze. “About what you said though, you should know that I—”

“Qrow, stop. You don’t need to say anything just because I did.” Clover tried to summon a comforting smile. He really had pushed it too far, to make Qrow feel the need to reciprocate. He didn’t know if he was ready to hear whatever Qrow had to say anyway. 

Despite their near-perfect partnership on the battlefield, they were still finding their footing with each other on a personal level. Qrow’s walls were strong, and while Clover had begun seeing the other side of them with increasing regularity, he knew Qrow had reasons for those boundaries. Clover respected that. He had his own, although the damn truth semblance had nearly obliterated at least one of them with his near-confession. 

“Look, I know I’m not great at all this sharing stuff,” Qrow started, and then stopped. He shook his head and muttered something under his breath. Most likely a curse, knowing him. “I just don’t want you to think I don’t care. About you.”

“I know you do. It’s okay,” Clover said, softened in the face of that bit of vulnerability.

Qrow shook his head in frustration. “You’re not getting it,” he said, and before Clover could process what was happening, he leaned in slow, pressing a soft kiss to Clover’s lips. 

The contact was barely more than the suggestion of a kiss, a light brush of Qrow’s lips on his to illustrate the point. Clover couldn’t seem to put together a coherent thought as his eyes slipped shut and he leaned in on reflex, half his mind convinced that he was dreaming while the other half was caught on the thought that maybe truth semblances weren’t such a bad thing after all. 

Clover took his time opening his eyes once Qrow pulled away, savoring the after-impression of Qrow’s lips on his while his mind reeled, still processing what happened and what it meant. He was having trouble thinking past the last few seconds. 

Qrow’s words came in a rush before Clover recovered enough to speak. “I’m not trying to push you into anything. I know this isn’t the best time with all this—” he waved in Clover’s general direction “—going on. We don’t need to talk until it wears off.” Qrow swallowed thickly. “But I wanted to be clear.” 

“Waiting would be the more responsible thing to do,” Clover agreed, thoughts moving rapidly now and his heart thrumming against his breastbone. “Or we could keep going.”

“Is that— are you—” Qrow stuttered, trying to find a way around the questions he wanted to ask. 

“Yes,” Clover answered all of them, and pulled him back in.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
